


"Come over here and make me."

by zeta_leonis



Series: ghosts are voyeurs [2]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved
Genre: -Ish, Explicit Sex, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Rough Sex, This is just a pwp, Wall Sex, i'm bringing the chips, oh well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 11:55:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11274909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeta_leonis/pseuds/zeta_leonis
Summary: “Shane, stop that this instant!”“Come over here and make me.”In which Ryan fears something followed them home and Shane just wants to give the (definitely non-existent) ghosts a show.





	"Come over here and make me."

 

Ryan wakes up panting, drenched in cold sweat, heart beating away at his ribs as if it was trying to escape. His mind plays tricks on him, ghastly visions still dancing behind his eyelids. He sits up, immediately reaches over for the bedside lamp, the dim yellow light filling the room. 

He sees Shane beside him in bed, now turning over to face him, his eyes fluttering open, his mind sleep riddled. 

“Ryan?” the taller man asks, his voice husky and coarse with sleep. “Is it the nightmares again?”

“Yeah,” the younger says, wanting to close his eyes. He fears the illusions will come back, so instead he turns to Shane. 

“Come here,” Shane beckons him, pulling the blanket up beside him. 

Ryan nods, gulping and lying down again. Shane wraps an arm around him, pulling him close, leaning over to turn the light off. As soon as the room gets plunged into darkness, Ryan tries to get even closer to Shane, burying his face in Shane’s broad chest, letting himself be enveloped by his boyfriend’s strong arms. 

“You’re okay,” Shane whispers, pressing kisses to the top of Ryan’s head. “You’re here, I’m here, you’ll be okay. They’re just dreams.” Shane puts two fingers under Ryan’s chin and tilts his head upward for easier access, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

Ryan just nods slightly and tightens his own hold on Shane. “I love you too.”

 

**__________**

 

“Now you’re being ridiculous.” Shane scoffs, taking another spoonful of cereals into his mouth. Ryan stares back at him, with an almost hurt expression on his face. 

“How would you explain the last week then?” Ryan is close to yelling, laughing dryly so as to not start crying. “I’ve been having nightmares every night, and that rarely happens!”

Shane barely bats an eye. “It’s probably just the stress  _ from  _ the haunted house, not something that was—supposedly—already there.”

Ryan kicks back in the chair, making it screech against the floorboards. “I cannot believe this.” He stalks out of the kitchen, head held high and fists clenched to his sides. He steps harder than usual, and his lips are pressed in a tight line. 

“Oh shit,” Shane curses, standing up as well, chasing after his boyfriend. He ends up finding Ryan in the living room, curled up on the couch, hugging a pillow.

“Ryan, babe…” Shane tries, but to no avail. All he gets is an amused sound from the younger man. He steps closer, standing behind him. “I didn’t - I didn’t mean to hurt you, or to make you feel embarrassed.”

“Yeah well, you did.” Ryan replies, sharp and stinging. 

Shane finally steps as close as he can, slowly wrapping his arms around Ryan, resting his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. He murmurs his apologies into Ryan’s neck, “I am so, so sorry, Ryan.” 

Ryan sighs deeply, leaning back into Shane’s touch. “I know.”

Shane kisses Ryan’s neck softly, every touch of his lips apologetic. He then whispers something faintly. “I know how to fix this.”

Shane then pulls away, turning on his heel to leave. Ryan whips his head around, concern slowly making its way onto his features. “Fix what?” he calls after him, unknowing whether to follow him or not. Shane has a reputation for doing unbelievably stupid things that — depending on the circumstances — may or may not have a potential for getting them killed. Or worse. 

“Shane, what -” Ryan sighs, jumping off the couch to go and find his (sometimes) seemingly insane boyfriend. 

Just then, he hears Shane’s voice drifting from the kitchen. 

“Here, Ghosty Ghosty Ghosty!” 

Ryan feels like he’s about to spontaneously combust. 

“What are you doing?” Ryan asks, half-intrigued, half-horrified. 

Shane turns to him. “Well, what do you think I’m doing?” 

Ryan splays his arms in frustration just to drop them to his sides again, a mix of frustrated exasperation dripping from his voice, mingled with curiosity. “Oh, I don’t know, trying to talk to ghosts?”

Shane winks mischeviously. “Exactly.”

_ Fuck no.  _ “Fuck no.” Ryan says, following Shane back into the living room as he tries wrapping his mind around the concept. This is not the first time Shane has tried ‘contacting’ ghosts and/or otherworldly beings through unorthodox and all but traditional methods, such as taunting them and inviting them to actually injure him (or Ryan). This is, however, the first time he has tried ‘contacting’ them within the walls of their own home. 

Ryan opens his mouth to say something, but -

“Hey, ghosts? If you are here, please knock on the wall.” 

Shane just smirks devilishly as silence settles around them, expectation building around them, until - 

Nothing. They hear no knocks on the wall - nor anywhere, really - and Shane goes from smirking to full-on grinning. 

“See?” 

Ryan is about to tell him to stop, but Shane just starts again, uncaring for the — somewhat plausible — consequences. “Ghosts that currently haunt our house! Please, if you’re here -”

“Shane, stop!” Ryan exclaims, but Shane ignores him completely. 

“- just make a sign. Anything.” 

Ryan’s frustration keeps building by the second, every word out of Shane’s mouth resulting in a sharp increase of the younger man’s exasperation. The rational part of Ryan really wants to follow Shane in his belief that ghosts are not real, and that they did not, in fact, follow him home; but then he remembers the nightmares, and gets terrified all over again. 

“Shane Madej, I swear, if you don’t stop  _ right now -”  _ Ryan swears under his breath, giving Shane the hardest, most defying stare he can muster. 

“You’ll  _ what? _ ” Shane taunts, going back to sporting that stupid smirk of his, and as soon as Shane opens his mouth again to keep taunting the ghosts, Ryan stops him. 

“Shane, stop that this instant!” Ryan’s patience is wearing thin. 

Shane’s entire expression changes, something dark in his eyes, something primal yet inviting, something that defies Ryan’s stare with a harsh glare of his own.  _ “Come over here and make me.” _

Ryan’s resolve snaps. He walks over to Shane, ready for a full-on confrontation, but as soon as he is in arm’s reach of Shane he finds himself getting pulled in by a vice grip on his arms, lips pressed hungrily against his own. Ryan gasps when his back is slammed into the wall, but he is unable to concentrate on the pain because Shane is kissing him in that rough, messy way that drives him crazy. Shane’s hands slide from his arms, down his sides and to his thighs, where he taps them, squeezing slightly. Ryan understands, and he jumps up, wrapping his legs around Shane’s hips, his arms resting on Shane’s shoulders, hands on the sides of his face. 

“Ryan,” Shane murmurs, breaking the kiss for a moment, panting. “Do you remember the time we had sex in that haunted house?”

Ryan chases his lips, pressing a chaste kiss there before nodding. 

“Remember how I said that maybe they had voyeuristic tendencies?” 

Ryan snorts, giggling. 

“Well, if they really did follow us back,” Shane explains. “Maybe we can put on a show.”

That’s when the younger gets pulled back to reality. “What?”

Shane kisses him again, and Ryan makes a small noise in the back of his throat, throwing his head back against the wall when Shane moves his lips down to Ryan’s throat. 

“Oh, Shane -” Ryan whimpers, feeling how Shane sucks a hickey onto his collarbone. “Are you going to - here?”

“Yeah,” Shane mutters huskily into his skin. “Right here, against the wall, where anyone - or  _ anything -  _ could see.”

Ryan has no time to come up with a response, because then Shane bites his ear playfully and he lets out a satisfied groan. 

They waste no time discarding their clothes, and soon enough they stand only in their boxers surrounded by a puddle of their own clothes. Shane then lets Ryan’s legs go, putting him on the floor. Ryan is somewhat confused, but then Shane breathes something against his lips - “Turn around.”

Ryan makes haste to do so, placing his hands on the wall, chest pressed flush against it as well. He can feel Shane’s mouth at his shoulder, his shoulder blade, down his back, all the way to his tail bone. Slowly, he feels his boxers being dragged down. Shane kisses each cheek before spreading them somewhat obscenely. 

“Shane,” Ryan pants out, vocal chords already knotted up because of the expectation, the tension build-up. “Lube.”

“Right.”

Ryan can no longer feel Shane behind him, and for a second, he just thinks about this madness. Shane is definitely taking this way too far, but  _ damn  _ the man is clever. Ryan wants to half-punch him, half-marry him, though maybe he could do both. 

And then finally, finally, he can feel Shane behind him again, pressing wet kisses down the side of his neck, and then back up. Ryan turns his head and they’re kissing again, Shane’s finger sliding into him. Ryan gasps into the kiss, stopping to breathe into Shane’s mouth, his little sounds increasing in speed when he feels himself getting stretched by more than one finger, a bit too rough, a bit too hurried, all the more enticing. 

“Do you think the ghosts will like this?” Shane asks breathily, and Ryan pulls back, looking at him with a furrowed brow.

“Don’t speak about that -” he chokes on a whine as Shane’s fingers twist inside of him, pressing against that one spot that makes stars burst behind his eyelids. “- When we’re doing this.”

“I’m sorry,” Shane pushes his fingers in harder, and Ryan rocks back on them, trying to get as much inside himself as possible. “Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” And Ryan knows he’s lying because Shane just pushes another finger in and starts leaving hickeys down his neck and shoulder. Ryan whimpers and slams his  fists on the wall looking for purchase somewhere,  _ anywhere,  _ but he can’t find it so all he can do is dig his nails into his skin, curl his toes and hope it’s enough to keep his knees from buckling. 

“You’re ready, don’t you think?” Shane’s voice is low and dripping lust, playful, seductive and far too dangerous, but as demonstrated time and time again, Ryan is a magnet for danger. 

“Yeah, yeah, just - fuck, Shane -” 

“I’m on it.”

The taller of the two pulls his fingers out, making Ryan gasp, and in one deft move, picks Ryan up again, positioning him over the head of his cock. He lets the shorter man sink down on his length, watching him writhe in his arms. 

“You’re so hot Ryan,” Shane whispers once Ryan has taken him to the hilt and is struggling to breathe. “Taking me like this.”

Ryan’s only reply is to scratch down his back and tighten his hold on Shane’s waist with his legs, trying to spur him on. Shane laughs against his throat, almsot mocking but not because he would never mock Ryan, not when they’re like this, not when Ryan is so delicate and pliant in his hands, willing to do whatever Shane asks of him. 

“Shane, please.”

Shane just nods and rocks his hips shallowly, trying to let Ryan catch his breath. No matter how many times Ryan says he’s ready he never is, he’s never ready for the stretching, for the unyielding feeling of being filled until he feels like his heart is in his throat and he can’t breathe because of how much his chest has tightened. 

“Harder, Shane, fuck,” Ryan pants, wrapping his arms around his shoulders for leverage, bracing himself.

Shane tightens his hold on Ryan and thrusts in earnest, slamming into Ryan as hard as possible, taking him against the wall like his life depends on it. Ryan gasps like he’s choking, moans and whimpers so loud it’s almost embarrassing if it wasn’t for the fact that Shane’s cock seems to throb with every single sound that leaves Ryan’s throat. 

The younger reaches a hand down to his own length, wanting to give himself relief, but he can’t because Shane growls low in his throat, “No, don’t. I want you to come untouched - I’m putting on a show.”

Ryan forgets the context of the last words, forgets about Shane’s implications and presses his lips to Shane’s, trying to kiss him through the haze of pleasure, to ground himself and to tether himself to something that is in this physical plane of existence, because between the sounds Shane is making and the nerve-wracking, bone-rattling, skin-burning sensation of his prostate being abused he’s beginning to doubt if it’s possible for a single  _ moment  _ to be so hot, for a sensation and a person like this to be real. He’s so turned on by the sound of Shane’s voice and the feelings of pleasure coursing through his body, and the mind-numbing fact that Shane is strong enough to hold him up against the wall - that has got to be the biggest turn on of all. 

“Fuck - fuck - Shane -” Ryan whimpers, his throat sore and his voice rough. “Shane, Shane,  _ Shane.”  _

“Ryan,  _ Ryan, _ ” Shane groans, his own sounds increasing in pitch and tempo, both of their voices getting higher, their whimpers of pleasure growing more frequent. “Ryan, fuck, come on -”

They come at basically the same time, Ryan shooting white between them, arching his back and digging his nails into Shane’s shoulders. Shane spills into Ryan, biting his shoulder and stifling a moan that reverberates through Ryan’s whole body. 

They pant, and when Shane pulls out, they slide to the floor, Ryan still in Shane’s lap. 

“Well,” Ryan says after a while. “Now I can cross ‘wall sex’ off my bucket list.”

“Hope  _ they  _ liked it.” Shane mumbles, and Ryan play-slaps him on the arm. 

“Shut up.”

 

**__________**

 

Though, Ryan did not have a single nightmare after that. 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> welllll this is awkward oh whale you guys wanted more smut  
> alas, more smut


End file.
